


Whale

by syriala



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018 [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: Peter let out a deep sigh before he closed the door and followed Stiles into the living room where he had flopped down on the couch, face pressed into the cushions.





	Whale

Stiles waltzed into Peter’s apartment without hesitation, just pushing the other man aside and barging right in.

Peter let out a deep sigh before he closed the door and followed Stiles into the living room where he had flopped down on the couch, face pressed into the cushions.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked, arms crossed over his chest, because this was unheard off.

No one just barged into this apartment like that, and he certainly didn’t like it. Especially not when it was Stiles, who was leaving his scent behind on every available surface. By now it would take days to get Stiles’ scent out of the couch, if only he would stop dropping by long enough for Peter to actually get somewhere with that. Peter just needed a few Stiles-free days to start on that.

“Mmphf,” Stiles said, though Peter wasn’t sure if it was because of the cushions or because Stiles was just like this sometimes.

He sighed again.

“Maybe turn around so I can actually hear you?” Peter asked, though he didn’t have much hope.

To his surprise Stiles started to make even more noises as he flopped his arms and legs. It looked and sounded like a dying whale on a beach and Peter was too horrified by the sight for a moment to do anything but stare.

Then he sighed again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked and finally Stiles turned his head around far enough, that he could speak without his voice being muffled.

“Trying to turn around,” Stiles gave back, sounding offended that Peter should even have to ask.

Peter couldn’t help the new sigh that escaped him.

This time Stiles turned his head even more, so that he could glare at Peter.

“You know, you do sigh suspiciously often around me,” Stiles accused him, and Peter couldn’t help the small smirk.

“You are very sigh-inspiring,” Peter gave back, and Stiles made the dying whale noises again.

“Rude,” Stiles said when he calmed down and then went boneless against the couch.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked again, and really, now that Stiles had pointed it out, he couldn’t help but notice that even that question was accompanied by a sigh.

Peter wanted to be angry with Stiles for pointing this out to him, but he was too fond with the boy to even pretend to be annoyed.

“Relaxing,” Stiles muttered, sinking even further into the couch.

“On my couch?” Peter asked, and he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to keep the sigh in this time.

“It’s so comfy,” Stiles dreamily said. “Plus, it has a me-shaped spot in it already, so it’s even more comfy.”

Peter was caught off guard by that. He hadn’t realized just how often Stiles dropped by and lounged around on his couch, but now that he thought about it he realized that Stiles had practically invaded his space. Peter geared up for a sigh again, but what came out instead was: “I’m in love with an idiot.”

Stiles had gone unnaturally still on the couch and Peter realized that he must have said it louder than he first thought.

He briefly felt like he couldn’t breathe, before he forcefully reminded himself that this was no surprise. Peter had always known that Stiles wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, and that this shouldn’t be a surprise now. Usually Peter was better at keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself but something about Stiles just lowered all his inhibitions.

Stiles finally started to move again, sitting up without his previous grunts and flailing, and he leveled Peter with an intense stare.

“Did you mean it?” Stiles asked, and Peter went back to the familiar sigh.

“Do you know me to say things I don’t mean?” Peter asked in return and he was woefully unprepared for the blinding smile that broke out on Stiles’ face.

“Nope,” Stiles said, delight clearly audible in his voice, before he made grabby hands at Peter. “You know, this couch is missing something.”

“And what would that be?” Peter wanted to know, but he was already walking towards Stiles.

“An us-shaped spot,” Stiles told him seriously and laughed bright and happy when Peter only sighed at that again.

When Peter was in reach, Stiles immediately pulled him down on the couch with him, arranging Peter to his liking, until they were both on their sides, Stiles tucked under Peter’s chin and curled into his chest.

“Wanted to do this for a long time,” Stiles mumbled and rubbed his face over Peter’ chest.

“Same,” Peter whispered into Stiles’ hair and couldn’t help the happy, content sigh that escaped him.


End file.
